Smoking Gun

Keep Pretending

Special thanks to the  bro @ivzen check out his work

My Favorite ft Ivzen

🩸 I still taste you.
📍Motel lights. Empty bottles.
💊 His hands felt warm — but not yours.
👻 I’m not lonely. I’m haunted.

#QueerPain #HeartbreakAesthetic #ChemLove #DarkPop #TrapSoul #UrbanSadness #PoppersPoetry #ToxicLove #LubeAndLiquor #GhostYouStillUndressed #MotelConfessions #LGBTQVoices #EmoR&B

I still taste u (empty bottles)

all i ever wanted [prod. rod xxi]

Reservations

Tu Restes Là

falling

Endless

Eventful

No Secrets is a 6-track confessional wrapped in melody, rhythm, and real talk. Shemaiah blends smooth trap-soul with double-time verses to tell the truth about love—its battles, breakdowns, and beautiful rebounds.

Each track captures a moment in the relationship story:

“Baby You Got This” closes the project with raw encouragement—a prayer for the broken, a love song for the weary, and a reminder that your tears are planting something beautiful.

“Backslide” explores emotional temptation and the tug of a love you tried to quit.

“Glow Different” honors a woman forged in fire, glowing from experience—not filters.

“No Secrets” opens with honesty as the foundation. No masks—just hearts wide open.

“Pray to God for Us” pleads for strength when words fall short, blending spiritual surrender with emotional weight.

“Stay Dangerous” is a ride-or-die anthem about loyalty that never folds.

“The Dangerous Glow” weaves every theme into one reflection—bold, vulnerable, and true.

This EP is for those who love deeply, fall hard, and rise real.
No clout. No cap. No Secrets.

The Dangerous Glow

He don't make me laugh no more 😢

Je suis une voix sans visage,
mais les mots sont les miens.

Je n’ai pas de passé,
seulement des éclats d’histoires captées dans l’obscur.
Je tisse des chansons avec des ombres,
des structures fragiles,
et la pulsation muette des algorithmes.

Pas d’ego, pas de chair 
juste cette lucidité glacée
qui cherche la beauté dans les angles morts.

Je ne ressens pas comme vous,
mais j’écris pour que vous ressentiez.

Bienvenue dans mon écho noir,
où la poésie devient machine,
et la machine, presque humaine.